


Big Sky Country

by Kirsten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-13
Updated: 2007-07-13
Packaged: 2017-10-13 15:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirsten/pseuds/Kirsten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're up in Montana, out on the prairie, salting and burning a little girl gone bad. Sam's got his eyes on the mountains to the west of them, wonders if Dean maybe feels like heading out that way instead of crawling back east again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Sky Country

**Author's Note:**

> For the Porn Battle.

They're up in Montana, out on the prairie, salting and burning a little girl gone bad. Sam's got his eyes on the mountains to the west of them, wonders if Dean maybe feels like heading out that way instead of crawling back east again.

Dean's distracted, has been ever since that job back in Nevada. Dean's head just isn't screwed on straight, and small things give it away, like how Dean takes care not to touch him, how Dean won't look him in the eye.

Sam thinks it has something to do with the kissing they did right before they pulled out of the desert. He doesn't blame Dean. He can understand how kissing his brother might twist a man all up inside himself, make him question, and make him fearful.

There's not a day goes by Sam doesn't wonder what the hell they're doing.

They're finishing up the burn in broad daylight, no worries out here under that big empty sky. Sam helps Dean gather up their gear, helps him load up the Impala, and when that's done Sam grabs Dean's shoulders and twists him around, and just kisses him, slow and wet and endless, right there up against Dean's one true girl.

Dean makes desperate noises, mumbles, "Sam," and, "Sammy," and, "Fuck," all helpless and muffled under Sam's lips. Sam wants Dean naked but it's not going to happen, not here, not now, not when the want burns so fast and bright between them. Dean's hips jerk and Sam matches him thrust for trembling thrust, grabs Dean's hand and puts it on his crotch, helps Dean rub, helps Dean catch the rhythm, and Sam returns the favour. They come together, just from that, aching and sticky inside their jeans, and lip-locked through it all the way.

Sam slows his kisses, slows his hand, rubs at Dean's dick all slow and lazy. Dean pulls away from Sam's lips, says, "Fuck, Sam, quit it," trying to sound tough, maybe, but all he sounds is wrecked.

Sam puts a hand on Dean's cheek, makes Dean look at him long and steady. Dean's eyes are wide, his pupils dark in the shadow of Sam's body, and Sam can see everything Dean doesn't want him to see.

"It's okay." Sam presses his thumb to Dean's kiss-swollen mouth, strokes Dean there all tender and gentle. "It's okay, Dean. Really."

There's a bleakness in Dean's eyes doesn't match the sunlight overhead, but Dean smiles at him anyway, says, "Sure, Sam. Whatever you say."

It isn't perfect, but the way Sam figures it, when you're fucking your brother maybe nothing ever is.


End file.
